Chapter Text
It had been 40 minutes since they entered the line. While they did move forward, they were still a little ways away. Sweat drenched clothes clung to Yusuke and Futaba’s bodies, but they could do nothing but stand in line, waiting to get a shot at entering a building to search for a specific doujinshi.
Futaba went on and on about it for months, talking about how based off of the snippets she saw it was a must-have. The catch was that the author only had a very limited set available, and they’d be scattered everywhere. When Yusuke questioned the odd business strategy, Futaba wrote it off saying the author tends to be very chaotic. Intrigued, Yusuke asked to tag along to witness the event. Futaba protested at first, but Yusuke was very adamant, so she gave in and let him.
However, the duo was now questioning their choices. While Yusuke came prepared with a parasol; Futaba came with water and sunscreen, it didn’t deter the heat from boiling them alive.
“This heat better be worth it.”
“The passion of all these people is simply enchanting. Waiting in this bliste-”
“Can you NOT romanticize this?! I LOOK LIKE A LOBSTER!”
“I suggested you wear a sweater.”
“A SWEATER IN THIS HEAT?! WHAT AM I?! A MASOCHIST!?”
Another 20 minutes went by before they entered the building, filled with fresh air. However, upon looking at the giant crowd of people, Futaba froze. Her breathing became shallow, her legs turned to jelly, and her heart ran at 100 miles per hour. Tears formed around her eyes as the gravity of her situation began to sink in. Yusuke bent down to her level, grabbed her hands, forcing her to look at him.
This wasn’t the first time she’s gotten like this. It was actually one of the main reasons he forced himself to come. After Akira went back home, Yusuke took up the mantle of being her escort and learned how to best support her when she gets panic attacks.
“Do you want to leave?”
“....no.”
“What do you need?”
“...piggyback.”
The duo made it to the booth, with Futaba clutching onto Yusuke’s neck for dear life paired with the odd stares from everyone around them. They made it to the booth with no problem and found that the supposed “catch” Futaba went along with was a lie. While it was true that the author had a limited set, they wouldn’t do something so cruel as to scatter their copies around like that.
Either way, Futaba managed to get her copy before heading back to Leblanc for a celebratory dinner. When they entered the door, all Sojiro could do was spit out the coffee he was drinking when he got a good look at Futaba.
“I don’t want to hear it, Sojiro.”
“Aw, come on, don’t be...shellfish.”
Yusuke chortled at the joke, only for Futaba to throw her water bottle at him.
“DON’T ENCOURAGE HIM, INARI!”